Fatal Absolution
by cruiz107
Summary: Isabella Swan learns that sometimes righting past wrongs can have deadly consequences.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Fatal Absolution**

**Author: cruiz107**

**Rating: M for extreme violence, sex, language**

**Beta: Alice's White Rabbit**

**Summary: Isabella Swan learns that sometimes righting past wrongs can have deadly consequences. **

**AN: This is the story that I contributed to F4LLS. It was a monster o/s at almost 20,000 words so I'm breaking it up into small chapters. Since it's already complete, a chapter will post every day until it's complete. Of course, if you have the compilation you can read it in its entirety.**

_Beep Beep Beep._

I swatted at the blaring alarm clock that wasn't even meant to wake _me_ up. It was only six in the morning, and I didn't have to be up for another hour.

No, the alarm was to wake Jacob. He had a sit-down scheduled at eight this morning but still insisted on staying over last night. I hated when he stayed over, but that's not something you're supposed to say to your fiancé.

Jacob was second in command, under his father, William, of the Wolf Pack, a Native American gang. The gang was started four generations ago by Jacob's great-grandfather, Ephraim, in an effort to fight against the oppression caused my white men who wanted to take their land. When they were successful in maintaining their land, the early members of the Wolf Pack became greedy and wanted more. They wanted more land, more money, and really, more power. As word of the gang's movement spread, so did its size. Originally, the Wolf Pack only consisted of Quileute members, but even that changed. No tribe was discriminated against, but proof of full-blooded Indian roots were required. Even that was changing, though.

I wasn't really sure how the gang actually formed and continued on, though, because every time I heard the history, the story changed. The white men were more ruthless, and Ephraim's people were more distraught, more oppressed.

I never sat in on a sit-down for two reasons. The first being that, although they were nowhere near the size of the mafia, they tried to conduct business like them, which meant no outsiders or women. The second reason was that I seriously couldn't give a shit about Jacob or the wanna-be hoodlums he ran around with. _My_ balls were bigger than theirs.

Frankly, the whole gang was one big hypocritical mess. They treated their women like shit when, in reality, Native American women are to be revered. Like I said, they thought they were the mafia. Plus, most of them had a white woman on the side. Weren't we supposed to be the enemy? The devil incarnates?

I hated Jacob with an absolute passion. I hated being engaged to him, I hated when he touched me, and I hated that I couldn't kill him … yet.

The only reason I even agreed to marry him was because my father, Charles, had passed away "unexpectedly", and I needed a tight link to the Wolf Pack if I wanted to keep a close eye on Jacob. I was so damn sure that Jacob was behind Charles' death. I didn't need proof or motivation to exact my revenge. He was going to pay for his sins, and I was going to be the one who delivered the final blow.

Charles Swan was the most reliable American arms dealer. He delivered on schedule and never tried to run game on anyone. He was small fries –inconsequential- to the people he conducted business with, so he knew it was in his best interest to not play with shipments, especially when it involved the Cullen family, our best customers for years before I was even born. All in all, Charles was reliable, loyal, and the hardest working motherfucker in the game. His business was small, almost non-descript compared to others in the business, but it worked well for him. It allowed him to have constant knowledge about all the dealings being handled.

When Charles became itchy with the need to venture out, he got involved in drug dealing also. He grew his own marijuana in an underground plantation but looked internationally for the best cocaine. He was surprised to find that the Dominican Republic offered some of the best outside of Columbia. Surprisingly, Cuba did also, but it was way too messy to deal with the Communist country when it came to moving the supply. My father always believed the less people involved the better, and he would have had to involve too many people for Cuba to be an option. The Dominican Republic was already tricky enough.

The only downside to the drug trade was the "protection" we had to pay the Cullen Bogotá in order to sell in their neighborhoods, which were basically all of them. When Charles died, the Cullens demanded another sit-down to renegotiate our agreement. Because my father served them well for many years, they only increased the payout to 30%, up from 20%. It was steep, in my opinion, but it wasn't like we were actually negotiating. The Cullens, more specifically Carlisle Cullen, told us what he wanted, and we either agreed or hit the road with our tails between our legs, and hopefully our lives. Not only did we agree to the ten percent hike because we had no option, but it would have hurt our arms dealings with the family if we hadn't. It was times like this that I really missed having Charles around.

I was quite surprised when I learned that the business was to be mine, despite being the eldest of three. The twins, Alice and Rosalie, were five years my junior. I was under the assumption that Alec, the man that worked for my father since I was two, would take over. I think it was a bitter pill for him to swallow when he learned the business wasn't going to be his. He was even the one who went to the sit-down to negotiate with the Cullens, thinking he was going to be the man in charge. Since we weren't the mafia, it wasn't like Alec had to be family or a certain decent to take over. Truthfully, I would have loved for Alec to run things. I hated running the business. It wasn't what I loved to do. I was more hands on. I was a natural killer.

Charles realized my killer instincts before I even did. He knew what I was meant to do with my life when he saw that I could pull the trigger without batting an eye and kill a man in cold blood. I always thought the reason I killed Mike so easily was because it was self-defense- either him or me - and I chose me. Really, it was stupid that Mike tried to violate me on my father's property.

Charles happened to be there that night, and he just knew. He said I had a look in my eyes that told him. In my opinion, it was just the adrenaline or even exhilaration. After making Mike's body disappear, he made plans to take me to the gun range for practice shots. After that first session, I realized that Charles was right. I had impeccable aim and handled the kickback of each gun remarkably well for a girl who had only shot once before. What sold me, though, was the way I felt when I had a gun in my hand. It was like my hands were shaped to accommodate any size gun. I felt a tremendous surge of power after each bullet fired from the chamber. I had become a sociopath seemingly overnight.

Charles hired two of the best hit men he became associated with through dealing with organized crime, both from the Capolicci family. I worked with James and Marcus perfecting my skills and learning new techniques. James loved explosives, so he taught me how to make a basic bombs, more complex ones, and showed me ways to manipulate different chemicals for the biggest bang. Marcus was your basic sadist and loved all forms of torture. He showed me where to stab or shoot to cause extreme pain, but not death. Evan the exact length in which to slit someone's throat if I wanted them to bleed out slowly, quickly, cleanly, or make it squirt.

When my father believed I was ready for my first hit, he expanded his business yet again and offered my services. Under my father's employment, I had thirty kills, earning about forty thousand per person after Charles took his cut. Only once did I make fifty G's for a kill, and sadly, it came from a jilted lover. I learned early on not to fuck with a made guy, but sadly for the woman I strangled, as ordered by her husband, she didn't heed that warning.

I killed Mike and began my training when I was eighteen. Seven years later, at twenty five, it was still my number one passion.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I've broken this up into ten small chapters. I'll be posting two a day. In this chapter, we'll meet the Cullen men and the other Swan girls.**

I tried rolling over and getting comfortable enough to go back to sleep, but Jacob was the most inconsiderate prick ever. He didn't care that not only was he keeping me up, but he was probably disturbing Alice and Rosalie, who were home from college on summer break.

"Can you keep it down?" I asked not too nicely. "You're gonna wake the girls up," I hissed.

"Fuck them," he spat despite the grogginess of his voice. "I hope they're getting fucking jobs while they're home. There's no fucking way I'm supporting them."

Him? Supporting them? Yeah, fucking right. When our father died, besides leaving me his business, he left us each seven million that the girls weren't allowed to touch until they turned twenty-five. I was supporting them at the moment; putting them through college and paying for the apartment they shared while attending MIT.

Alice and Rosalie were as different as night and day in every imaginable way except when it came to intelligence. They both tested as geniuses when they took an IQ test offered by MIT when enrolling. It was unnecessary, though, as both of them were labeled geniuses at the age of ten. Their love of computers and shopping were the only things they had in common outside of school.

"Whatever, Jacob. Just hurry up and leave so I can go back to sleep."

For being an engaged couple, there were so many things that Jake didn't know about me. The one major thing being my favored choice of passing time, which was why I had to let so many things go when he angered me. It would be so easy to put a hole between his eyes before he could even register what was happening, but the time wasn't right. I wasn't stupid by any means, and killing Jacob now would not end well for me.

..oOo..

Today wasn't a very busy day, but it was still important. The shipment from Columbia had come in around three in the morning and was supposed to be under lock and key, manned by one of my most trusted employees, until I arrived at the warehouse.

Even more important than that, though, it was payday for the Cullens. Austin, who usually made the delivery, had gone missing, which sadly wasn't that uncommon.

"Alec?" I called through my opened office door, after sealing the thick manila envelope. "Can you come over here a second?"

"What?" he asked rudely. He would never speak to my father like that, but I guess he had his reasons for not liking me. He was still the number one guy in my business.

"Austin's … gone, so would you mind delivering this to Mr. Jasper Cullen? You know where the drop is, right?"

Jasper was the youngest Cullen brother who, despite his father being the boss, was still making his way up the ladder. I always paid him directly. The usual meeting spot was at Jasper's gas station, which provided the front for a legitimate business. It allowed them the space to conduct family business while serving the community. Every Thursday by noon, he wanted his family's cut. Jasper was also rarely the one to actually receive the money. He made sure that he had a highly trusted employee there when he wasn't around, which wasn't often.

"Yeah, I got it." Swapping the envelope, which contained over a hundred and sixty thousand, he stomped out of my office.

By three o'clock, I was already exhausted and dragging my feet, but every pound of cocaine was accounted for and every block of marijuana was sent out to be distributed and sold.

I had only been sitting for a minute when I heard the familiar sound of a gunshot, followed by my door being flung open and a 9mm pointed at me. The only thing that stopped me from reaching for my own gun was that Emmett Cullen was the one holding the trigger.

"Eddie, in here," he hollered. Edward Cullen quickly, but confidently, strode into my office.

I had only seen him a few times in passing in recent years, but it was always easy to recognize how handsome he was. His eyes were a deep, captivating jade color. His features were sharp and his body was lean. His hair was always neat and slicked back. However, it was hard to fawn over his looks while his gun was jabbed underneath my chin. This had to be the gun that had gone off outside as the heat scorched my flesh. I had no doubt that he would not hesitate to kill a woman.

"Where the fuck is our money?" he asked in an eerily composed voice while digging the gun deeper into my skin.

"I sent it with Alec hours ago. He knows the drop off spot." I tried to remain calm. This was the only family that intimidated me. The amount of power this one family had over the country, and among many European cites, was staggering. It was my belief that the family mainly operated in Washington State to remain inconspicuous while dirty dealing, but their home base was always New York. However, with the name Cullen, it was hard to go unrecognized, even in the civilian world.

"Well, Alec never made it, and this is the second week you haven't paid up. I think I'm being extremely generous right now by letting you explain and not blowing your fucking brains out. I've done worse for less." He dug the gun deeper, and I was almost positive that I would have a circular burn scar in the spot permanently. I could almost smell burnt flesh in the air.

"I don't know what to tell you," I stammered. "This is the first time I'm hearing that you didn't get paid last week. I thought you would have come then if you didn't receive your money." Instead of responding, he wrapped his free hand around my throat and squeezed.

"Are you saying that we're not doing our job right; that's we're going soft?" He squeezed tighter and jabbed deeper. "You're beautiful, but I'll kill you if you're trying to play my family for fools."

"I'm not playing anyone," I tried saying, spit flying loosely while I tried talking around the constriction of air. He loosened his grip when my words came out slurred, but didn't altogether remove either his hand or gun. "I could kill you right now if I wanted to, but I respect your family too much." Once the words were out of my mouth, I realized how stupid they were. I was so used to being on the other side of the gun that I forgot to filter myself.

"Did you hear that, Emmett?" he laughed. "She thinks she can kill me."

"I think you should let her try. It'd be fun to watch," he replied, an excited grin spreading across his face.

"You don't know who I am," I countered. I wasn't trying to seem threatening, but merely trying to get Edward to remove his gun. The heat of the gun began to fade, but my skin was aching–literally felt like it was on fire.

"Should I know who you are?" he asked, laughing yet again.

"She's the Dark Swan," I heard a voice say from the doorway. I knew that voice as if it was my own. They couldn't have picked a worse time to stop by.

**AN: I review would be nice ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Glad everyone is enjoying it so far. Keep on favoriting/following/reviewing. It would make my day at work to keep getting your e-mails. **

"Get out of here," I gritted out. The girls had never seen me in such a dire position before because I never allowed them to. It was only after our father died that they learned of my job outside of selling guns with Charles.

"No, stay," Edward demanded. "Have a seat. This is getting better and better." Looking bored with the entire situation, the girls sat on the empty sofa across the room. As I watched them walk toward it, I couldn't help but notice Emmett eyeing one of them, but I couldn't tell who.

"So you're the Dark Swan? Charles' personal killing machine?" I nodded. "Never thought Charles needed someone to do his dirty work," he spoke. "Let alone a chick."

"My father had a business. People paid us to do the dirty work-as you call it-that their guys were too pussy to do. Or who couldn't get the job done," I countered. "As a matter of fact, I think I've done a job for the Cullen organization once or twice," I lied, basically signing my own death warrant, but this whole confrontation was taxing on my body, and apparently, my verbal filter.

I hadn't done a job ordered directly by the family but by someone associated with the family. The only thing I knew about him was that, at the time the job was brought to me, he had just gotten his button. All I really cared about, though, was the money involved and who my target was; which in this case ended up being his wife's sister who didn't know how to keep her legs closed. Why that concerned him, I didn't know, but it wasn't my job to care.

He pressed the gun deeper. At the rate he was going, he was going to end up stabbing me with the thing. "You're a fucking liar," he seethed. "My people can take care of shit on their own."

"I didn't say that you couldn't," I agreed, trying to calm him down and hopefully getting him to release my throat. Something had to give because between his fingers wrapped around my throat and the gun to the underside of my chin, the pain was becoming unbearable. "But did one of your guys lose a sister-in-law about seven months back?" I asked.

"What the fuck?" Jasper gasped. "How the fuck did she know about Maria's death?" he asked Edward.

"Because I was the one who put that bullet through her brain," I told them.

"I call bullshit," Emmett interjected casually. "This is the fucking mafia; our people die by bullets every day. It was an easy guess."

"No," I gasped between breaths. It was getting hard to talk since breathing wasn't proving to be easy anymore. "But how many times do your sisters have their breasts cut off?" It wasn't a particularly appealing aspect of the job, but he wanted proof of her death in the form of her tits. Of course, he was charged extra.

"Eww, Bella. That's disgusting," Alice said.

Edward didn't loosen the grip on my throat but moved the gun from my throat to my forehead. Edward was known for being calculated and ruthless, so I was pretty sure I was about to die.

"Who ordered that?" Edward spat, completely squeezing with no regard.

"Can't … breath." Instinctively, my body switched to fight mode. My arms, which I had kept by my sides, began clawing at Edward's arm, unsuccessfully trying to extricate them. "Rose … ," I tried calling out. She wasn't much of a fighter, but she was better than Alice, and I needed help. Air supply was quickly becoming nonexistent, preventing me from fighting back like I usually could.

I heard Rose and Alice both get up from the couch only to be blocked by Edward's brothers. I could hear shouting and arguing, but it was taking up too much energy to pay attention.

My arms finally went limp, no more fight left in them, as my eyes began to droop. I could feel my body shutting down. Before I completely lost consciousness, he released his hold on my throat. My body slumped to the floor, landing on my injured knee, and I greedily began sucking in oxygen. My throat was already sore, burning with each lungful of air I took in.

Edward bent down to my level and steadied the gun, once again, to my forehead.

"I'll ask one more time. Who ordered that job?" he shouted.

I shook my head, continuing to breathe deeply. "I can't tell you that. You're going to have to kill me." If it was one thing my father taught me, it was loyalty and trust. It's what we both built our skills on. If I went off and ratted out all my clients, I'd be nothing. I'd be just as low as my clients themselves.

"Trust me, my finger is itching to pull the trigger. Before I do, though, tell me where my money is?"

I had forgotten about the original money situation.

I shook my head in earnest now. "I really don't know. I sent it with Alec hours ago. It should have been received at the scheduled time and place. Last week, too, but …" I trailed off, finally putting two and two together.

"Fuck!" I shouted hoarsely. "Alec. He has your money. He was supposed to deliver it today and last week. He went with my original guy, Austin, last week, but Austin never made it home. People die in this business all the time, so I never thought too much about it, but I should have since the money was Austin's only responsibility. He was a low man on the chain, so no one would gain much with his death. Fucking Alec."

I saw red. Something told me to watch out for him, especially after my father's death. Everyone thought everything would be handed over to him, so it came as a shock to everyone when it wasn't. I didn't realize how bitter he really was toward me. He wanted me gone–dead.

"What are you talking about?" Alice asked from her seat on the couch.

"Alec had to have killed Austin so he couldn't deliver the money. Obviously, the money never made it then or today. You don't play with Cullen money and live. He knew they would come and most likely kill me," I explained. Alec was probably wondering why I was still alive. The sad part was, _when_ I died, the company would be handed down to both Rose and Alice. No one outside family would ever own it unless one of us sold it.

"So, what? You're gonna kill our sister because that asshole betrayed her and our father's company?" Alice shouted at Edward, who still had the gun aimed at my forehead.

"It's not my fault she employed a defector," he answered nonchalantly.

"I'll pay you back," I said, trying to reason from my submissive position on the floor.

"Of course you are, but now I want interest. Plus, we'll add time and labor to that. Make it an even two mil, and I'll let you live," Edward negotiated, adding a grossly inflated amount.

I nodded solemnly. "Let me just get my checkbook," I croaked. Between the burn under my chin and my throat, I didn't know which one hurt more. I had never gotten this messed up during an actual job.

Three deep laughs rang out in the room.

"A check, Isabella?" Edward laughed, his eyes still as hard as steel. "I'm not taking a check for two million. How would it look if I went into a bank with a check that large? Think, Isabella." He tapped the top of my head with the barrel of the gun; a sting with each blow. "I want cash." No longer was there any humor in his voice. "And I want it now."

"I don't have two million in cash."

"Don't fucking lie to me. I know that Charlie kept a minimum of four mil in the floor safe–the one the sofa is sitting on top of," he said, pointing over to where the girls were sitting.

"How …" I tried to ask. _No one_ knew about that safe except for my father, my sisters, and me. That cash was strictly for emergency purposes only. And by emergency, he meant that we had to get the fuck out of dodge _stat_. Luckily, nothing like that ever occurred.

"It's not called organized crime for nothing, babe," Jasper joked as he continued to stand with his arms folded across his chest. Emmett continued to have his gun pointed at my sisters.

"Fine. Granted that there _is_ money under there, I wasn't paying you with the business' money. This check is from my own personal account." There was no point in lying about anything since they probably knew even more than they were letting on.

"What? Bella, no!" Alice screeched from her position on the couch. "That's your money, and this is a business matter."

"Yeah, well, it became personal," I snapped back with a raspy voice. "I should have realized what the fuck was going on sooner. Besides, Austen was taking care of a sick mother. It's my fault that he's gone now. I still have to pay for her expenses, plus the salaries of my other employees."

This is why I hated this fucking job. I knew just enough to keep it afloat and not embarrass my dead father. No wonder Alec wanted me dead.

There was a distant chirping, a familiar alarm that was specifically set.

"Fuck," I groaned into my hands. This day could not get any worse.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Thanks for all the reviews and follows. Keep them coming!**

"What the fuck is that?" Edward demanded.

I rubbed my face in irritation. "That's my fucking alarm. I have an appointment in an hour that I have to get to," I responded harshly. If I was lucky, he wouldn't pistol whip my ass for getting loud.

"What kind of appointment?" Edward asked.

"A new client meeting, and no, I'm not telling you who or where," I answered snidely. I was already as good as dead, so curbing my tone didn't seem necessary at this point.

He narrowed his eyes at me before turning to his brothers and my sisters. "You two, get up. Jasper, open the fucking safe," he instructed the three of them.

"Fuck you," Rosalie spat, refusing to move.

"I'll volunteer for that," Emmett replied giddily.

"Rose, please," I begged. "Just get up." I tried pleading with my eyes. I needed them to cooperate for their own safety.

Rosalie glared before removing herself. I motioned for them to come to me, making sure they kept their hands visible at all times. Slowly, I began to stand, though with my aching knee, it was unnecessarily difficult. Emmett and Edward watched them warily as Jasper pushed the couch to the side and crouched down to the safe. He didn't know the code, but this was the Cullen Borgata and safe cracking was probably in their DNA.

I moved the slightest bit away from Edward, needing to talk to my sisters quickly and quietly.

"Listen to me carefully," I began in a whisper. "This company goes to the both of you equally when I'm gone. If you don't want it, break it up, don't sell it whole. Trust your instincts when it comes to buyers. If you can't find anyone you trust, burn the fucking thing down and collect the insurance on the building. Lastly, don't believe a fucking thing Jacob tells you about being left anything in my will. Everything I own goes to the both of you. My will is ironclad and cannot be contested."

Both girls were crying and shaking their heads as I spoke.

"Why are you telling us this?" Rosalie rasped. Rose always presented herself as this ice cold witch, but she could be extremely emotional, especially when it came to family.

I smiled ruefully, fighting tears that I refused to cry in front of my murderer. "I want the two of you to be prepared. Just know that I love you both so much, and I'm so proud of you," I continued in a whisper, kissing them both on the forehead. "Don't stop them, and don't go after them," I warned, referring to the Cullen brothers that stormed my office. "You won't win."

"Got it," Jasper called as he reached his hand in for the first stack of money. It didn't matter that they were getting their dues and then some–they were going to kill me.

A throat clearing sounded behind me. I stood straighter and inched my way back closer to Edward.

"I think we're almost done here," Edward said gleefully. "Only one more matter. Get over here," he instructed me, motioning with his gun before pressing it against my temple.

I closed my eyes, hoping it would be quick and painless.

..ooOOoo..

The first time I ever saw Edward was years ago, about a year and a half before Mike came into the picture. I saw him sitting alone in a coffee shop in New York, casually dressed in jeans and a sweater. He was much younger and less put together, but still beyond explicably handsome. His hair was everywhere and his face was scruffy. He held a book in his hand that I couldn't make out from where I was standing waiting for my coffee order.

At my young age, all I needed was a cute guy–that was gold in my book. When my coffee was ready, I sat at a distant table and sipped the hot liquid slowly, watching him with rapt attention. I didn't like to remember what happened after that, but sometimes it just crept up.

Needless to say, he obviously didn't remember me or our encounter at all.

"Isabella," Edward shouted, snapping his fingers in front of my face. "Focus," he demanded. It was _that_ voice. A tone which demanded the need for obedience and compliance that made me realize that I couldn't die. At least not yet.

"Mr. Cullen, please," I pleaded. "I know that I'm already as good as dead, but please, give me just one week. I have something I need to take care of before you off me. One week and you can shoot me, choke me, poison me, whatever. I won't fight you; I'll be your most compliant target ever."

"Are you fucking stupid, Bella?" Rosalie replied harshly through her tears. "Who the hell asks for a week instead of their life? And what's so important anyway?"

"Yes, Isabella, what is so important that you need a week to complete?" Edward asked.

"Nothing. Just …" I looked over at my sisters. I didn't want to talk about this in front of them. It was hard on me, and I knew it would be even harder on them.

"You're asking me to kill you later and not now. I think I deserve a reason–a good reason." He cocked the gun for emphasis and held it to my temple.

I tore my eyes from my saddened sisters and lowered them to the floor. Shame, guilt, and anger washed over me like a tidal wave, and I feared that the emotions were too strong for me to ever really let surface.

"I need to kill Jacob Black before I die," I confessed.

"What!" Rose and Alice asked in unison.

"Why does that name sound familiar?" Jasper asked.

"Jacob Black is a member of the Wolf Pack. A bunch of clowns if you ask me," Emmett answered. "Posers would probably describe them better," he scoffed.

"What does Jacob Black have to do with you?" Edward asked.

"Jacob is my fiancé," I mumbled. Emmett and Jasper both laughed but tried covering it up with coughs. "I think … No, I know he had something to do with the death our father," I finished, looking back at the girls sympathetically. Or rather ashamed would more aptly describe what I was feeling. I resigned myself to the notion long ago, but I knew that bit of information had to be a tough blow to the two of them.

"I fucking knew it!" Alice screeched. She bypassed Jasper and Emmett, who were both holding them at gun point. She pushed them aside, and amazingly, they didn't say or do anything to stop her. She stood right in front of me with her finger in my face. "I told you! I fucking told you that he was a piece of shit, and you ignored me; told me I didn't know what I was talking about." Without warning, she lifted her hand, delivering a stinging slap across my face. I saw Rosalie advancing but held my hand out to stop her. I deserved all of this.

"Jacob may have killed Daddy, or at the very least had something to do with it, but I hold _you_ responsible," she spat. I watched her angrily walk away, grabbing her purse on the way out. Rosalie looked conflicted. She didn't know whether to leave with her twin or stay with her sister, who was more than likely was about to die.

"Go with her," I instructed, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Take care of her."

Like Alice, Rose pushed past the gunmen and gave me a tight squeeze. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too. I'm so sorry I did this to our family," I apologized. "Go now." With a kiss to the top of her head, I turned her around to head out the door.

We all watched as Rosalie walked out of my office, closing the door behind her. It was pretty surprising that Jasper or Emmett didn't try to stop them.

"Wow," Jasper said, followed with a whistle. "And here I thought our family had over-the-top problems."

I ignored his comment and kept my eyes casted down.

"You know, Isabella," Edward began, "I think the cruelest thing I can do to you is let you live the rest of your life knowing that your sister isn't likely to ever forgive you. Those were some harsh words she spewed."

I kept my head down, fighting the hardest battle ever–not crying in front of the three brothers. Edward was probably right on point. Alice was never going to forgive me, and she and Rose were the only two people I had in this world.

"But," he continued, "I'm a fair man. I'll take the money and let you live. You hurt yourself more than I ever could. However, let me make myself _extremely_ clear." He grabbed my chin, making me flinch with both the pain of the gun burn and his abruptness, and made me look into his deadly eyes. "If you, or whoever, fuck with me again, you, your family, and everyone in this building will be unrecognizable after I'm done. Understand?"

"Yes, Mr. Cullen. Thank you." Unfortunately, I wasn't sure if living was worth it at this point. If I didn't have my family, I had nothing.

"Good. One more thing before we go. Carlisle wants a gun, a Fabbri, and wants it in two month's time," he said casually while shoving his gun back in his waistband. I stared wide-eyed at him.

"Does Mr. Cullen understand what he's asking for?" I asked, surprised. Maybe Charles could get it in two months' time, _maybe_, but I didn't know how I was going to be able to pull it off.

"Are you saying that my father doesn't know about guns or what he wants? I'm going to take that as a personal insult," Edward sneered.

"Not at all, Mr. Cullen," I backtracked. "It's just that … well, not only is that an expensive shotgun, but it's damn near handmade, and there's a waiting list. I don't know if I can get it in two months. My dad had connections that I'm not sure extended to me."

"You should already know that money isn't an issue, and I should be insulted, yet again, Isabella. Regardless of the situation, he wants it when he wants it. If it's not delivered in that time, you deal with him. It's out of my hands."

All three brothers walked out of my office seconds later. Jasper gave me a sympathetic smile that I tried to appreciate, but it was hard when they strolled out with a couple million dollars of my money.

I threw myself on the sofa that was never put back in place. How had my life gone to complete hell in less than twelve hours? My day wasn't even done as I still had that meeting to get to. Thankfully, the contract was already in place. All I had to do was collect my money and set up a time and place. The whole thing should take no more than ten minutes. In and out as quickly as possible.

Even after that, though, I still had to deal with getting the shotgun for Carlisle, track down Alec, and generate a plan to kill Jacob without making myself look suspicious. I didn't plan on eradicating Jacob until we were married, but obviously, I could no longer wait for that.

A huge part of me wanted to call Alice and see how she was doing, but I knew that it wasn't an option at this point. I needed to let her come to me when she was ready. If I even attempted to reach out to her, I would make the whole situation so much worse.

With a heavy heart and head, I pulled myself up from the couch, hoping that nothing else went wrong as I limped out of my office.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: I guess I should have put in a warning that Edward is not a nice guy in this story. It won't always stay like that, but it's obviously been displayed. Anyway, enjoy and review…a lot **

I grabbed a table by the window, waiting while I took small sips of my hot tea. I watched the raindrops race down the windowpane as I tried to forget about the ache in my knee. I always thought it was silly when adults complained that their arthritis and surgery scars seemed to flare up when it rained. I no longer thought it to be a crazy notion as I had my leg propped up on a chair to relieve some of the pain. Honestly, though, it had been hurting since the incident in my office. I think my knee was fucked up again. If I had it my way, I would postpone this meeting to another day, but it wasn't my call. However, before I left my home, I made sure to wear my knee brace, put a generous coating of salve on the burn mark, and donned a turtleneck that I'd taken to wearing recently to cover up the purplish-green fingerprint bruises around my neck.

I looked at the time displayed my cell phone. Although I was ten minutes early, he was ten minutes late, but it wasn't as if it was something I could call him out on. Another five minutes, and just seconds from getting up and leaving, I saw him stroll in like he was right on time. Instead of coming over to me, he went over to the counter and ordered a coffee. I waited an additional four minutes before he finally acknowledged me.

"Isabella," he greeted.

"Hello, Mr. Cullen. Thank you for meeting with me."

"Well, I have to say, you're a very …interesting person. You've crossed my mind these past few days. How are things with you and your sister …" he trailed off, waiting for her name.

"Alice. The same, I guess. She's still not talking to me, and honestly, I don't even know what to think of it. She's been mad at me before, but this is on a whole new level," I rambled, feeling a little relieved to say something about it to someone. It's hard to talk to someone when your only friends are your sisters. However, I had to remember who I was talking to, and more likely than not, Edward didn't really give a shit about Alice and me.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"It is what it is." I shrugged. "So, um, the reason I asked you to meet with me. It's about Jacob."

"I'm not killing him. That's all you." He took a lazy sip from his paper cup, eyeing me as if I were about to argue.

"I don't want you to kill him, Mr. Cullen, but I do need your help, sort of."

"You don't have to call me Mr. Cullen. Edward would suffice."

I shook my head. "I wouldn't feel comfortable with that. We're not friends, and in some way, you could be considered my boss, though I'm the one paying you," I joked wryly.

He nodded. "Well, the offer still stands." He took another tentative sip. "So how's my father's order coming along?" he asked with a smirk in place.

I groaned internally, not wanting him to know how much this order frustrated the hell out of me. "I've been on the phone all day for the past three days. I don't even want to think about the phone bill," I said, shaking my head. "But I finally got in touch with someone who had a cousin that -" I was saying before Edward cut me off.

"That has a roommate with a sister whose boyfriend's uncle works with Fabbri?" I didn't reply to his sarcastic comment, opting to grind my teeth and bite my tongue. "Look, Isabella, let me know now if you can't get it. It's for your benefit that we know now, rather than later, that you can't complete the order. I'm sure you're aware that we have other dealers that would jump at an opportunity like this to solidify themselves as Carlisle Cullen's personal arms dealer."

I fought the urge to lash out at him and correct his asinine assumption. _No one_ was better than Charles, and Carlisle knew that, which is why my father was his go-to guy. I wasn't half as good as my father, but my drive to uphold my father's reputation was strong.

Edward was also wrong for thinking that another dealer would want the chance to take and complete this order in the timeframe I was given. It was close to impossible, but impossible wasn't in the Cullen vocabulary.

"That's not what I'm saying, Mr. Cullen. I was able to place the order," I began, leaving out the part where I had to throw the Cullen name around a bit, "but the price has gone up, and I'm losing a great deal of money on this," I ground out.

"How much is a great deal?"

I blow out a harsh breath that stung my throat. "Let's just say that I'm not making a profit on this sale," I answered vaguely. The truth of the matter was that I was taking an extreme loss. I was being ripped off and I knew it, but there wasn't much I could do unless I wanted to piss off Carlisle Cullen and/or ruin the Swan name that Charles had built. Neither was an option.

I stared at him for a couple of seconds, remembering the handsome man that rejected me so many years ago in a similar setting. "You don't remember me, do you?" I asked, cocking my head to the side.

"Should I?" He looked at me curiously. "Are you someone other than Charles' daughter?"

"I suppose not. It was a quick encounter in New York some years ago."

"Feel free to refresh my memory."

"It was in a coffee shop in New York, ironically. I went over to you and asked to buy you a fresh cup of coffee–from what I observed you had the same beverage for a while. Anyway, I asked you, you looked me up and down and told me to go away; said you didn't entertain women that were less than stunning." It didn't bother me much anymore, but at the time it was like a low blow to my already dwindling self-esteem.

He looked at me with surprised yet angry eyes. "You're lying," he responded irritably.

"No." I shook my head calmly. "I went back to my table in the corner, licking my wounds and watched as some beautiful redhead came in a few minutes later. She placed a kiss on your cheek and sat down with you. I understood after seeing her. I definitely couldn't compare to her; you made a good choice."

"Did you know who I was then?" he asked, still upset. Why, I had no idea.

"I knew _of _you, but I didn't know what you looked like. I made the trip with Charles, who was actually in town to meet with your father. I guess the answer, though, is that no, I didn't know who you were. You were just a pretty face who sent off this mysterious vibe."

Edward seemed lost in thought. I used the moment to pull the cotton cloth away from my neck, desperate for a cool breeze. The amount of body heat, combined with the heat of the brewing coffees and boiling water, were becoming stifling.

"Shit," I heard Edward hiss as I let the cloth hug my neck once again. He reached his hand out toward me, and I couldn't help but flinch and wait for an oncoming blow.

"Christ, I wasn't going to hurt you," he snapped.

"Sorry." There was a tense silence. "It's not as bad as it looks, anyway." I don't know why I was trying to make _him_ feel better about trying to kill me. I couldn't even bring myself to tell him that my trachea sustained way more damage. The discoloring was nothing. I hadn't eaten solid food for days, not for a lack of trying, and the only thing that helped–only the slightest bit–was tea.

I began rubbing my knee as it seemed that the tension was starting to take on a physical effect.

"What's that about?" Edward asked, finding his voice as he nodded over to my leg perched on the extra chair.

"Bad motorcycle accident about three years ago. I got some pretty bad road rash, but my knee got the worst of it. I needed two surgeries and about nine months of rehab. It tends to ache on rainy days," I explained, leaving out the part about landing on it the other day. He had done a good job of effectively fucking me up without much effort.

The silence after was still strained, and I honestly couldn't put my finger on the reason. Edward wasn't sorry for what he did, and I knew for a fact–based on my father's stories–that these Cullen men had no qualms about getting their hands dirty when it came to the "family business". Violence was second nature in their world, as it was in mine. Though not often, some victims live to see another day, and it was something that we had to suck up and deal with.

Maybe that's what was bothering him? That he hadn't killed me.

"Are you pissed off because you didn't kill me when you had the chance?" I asked before really thinking the question through. Edward's look of surprise matched the utter shitstorm that was going through my head when I spoke–truthfully-out of turn.

He leaned in close and began whispering harshly. "Do you fucking hear yourself right now? What kind of fucking question is that to ask me?"

I lowered my eyes from his, out of both embarrassment and respect. "I apologize."

This meeting was going nowhere fast with no results. I needed us to get back on track to the question at hand before I managed to get my head blown off. Time was not something that was on my side, and I needed an answer from him. If he refused my request, which he most likely would, then I would need a plan B.

However, before I could bring up the Jacob issue again, the other two Cullen brothers strode in. They headed straight for our table. I kept my head up, but my eyes turned down. Truth be told, I was a little afraid of them.

"Bella," Emmett greeted, smiling politely.

"Mr. Cullen," I nodded back. "Mr. Cullen," I nodded at Jasper. They both chuckled, but didn't correct me. Grabbing chairs from nearby tables, they sat, flanking Edward. All three looked at me expectantly. _What_ they were expecting, I didn't know. Maybe I was being dismissed.

"I guess I'll be going then," I said awkwardly. I stood from my chair, gathered my things, and began walking away with a noticeable limp. The plan was to walk home since I only lived a few blocks; however, the ache in my knee was less bearable than it was on my way here.

Ten minutes into my walk home, though not much closer, a BMW swerved to a stop in front of me as I tried crossing the street. I was ready to pull out my pistol in agitation, when the driver rolled down the passenger window. Edward sat in the driver's seat, looking as if I was the one that almost ran _him_ over.

"Get in," he ordered. Normally, I would have respectfully declined, but my knee was killing me, and it felt as if I'd never get home.

"Thank you," I said as I closed the door.

"Why did you leave?" he asked as he peeled away, throwing me against the car door.

"I just assumed that my time was up, and I'm sure that you had private matters that you had to discuss with your brothers," I explained.

"Assuming is a very dangerous thing, Isabella."

The car ride became silent. I wasn't even granted the distraction of the radio playing in the background. It was tense being so close to him. Not only was the sexual tension–at least on my side–making me dizzy, but he was an unpredictable man with a temper problem.

I kept my eyes studiously looking out the window. The scenery was familiar. He knew exactly where I lived without me having to tell him. That, alone, made me nervous. How much more did he know about me? Probably more than I would be comfortable with.

He reached my apartment complex minutes later. I turned to thank him for the ride, but he spoke before I could.

"Seven thirty tonight. Meet me at Salvador's for dinner, and we'll discuss your request further. I'll see you later."


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: I just wanted to make note that I am viewing your reviews. However, I update before and after work then go about my day so I read the reviews on my phone. For whatever reason, FF isn't letting me reply with my phone. IDK. Anyway, please keep reviewing. I flove getting them.**

"And where are you going again?" Jacob asked for the fourth time in an hour. I turned my back just to roll my eyes without him seeing.

"Out for drinks with the girls," I lied, for the fourth time, as I bent down to put my shoe on. Luckily, the girls were already out, and since he didn't have either of their cell phone numbers, he couldn't validate my story.

"_Where_ though?" he asked, clearly annoyed.

"I told you, I don't know. Wherever they want to go."

"Where are they now? How come they're not here?"

"What the hell, Jake? The last time I checked, my father was fucking dead," I sneered at him. "You remember that, right?" That shut him right up. He thought I was clueless and under the assumption that he had nothing to do with his death.

He was an idiot, and he was as good as dead. With or without Cullen help.

The only way I could describe Salvador's was a fancy dive. It wasn't surprising that Edward choose this place to talk business. It was casual, but offered enough privacy with their overly large booths. The most attractive thing about the place, though, was that the owners, staff, and most of the patrons knew to look the other way.

Reservations weren't needed at Salvador's, but they certainly helped. However, I'm not sure which route Edward had gone. If he had a reservation, he would have been seated quickly, but if he didn't, I'm sure _he_ would have been seated just as quickly.

I limped up to the hostess and asked if a Mr. Edward Cullen had arrived. She gave me the once-over before asking me to follow her. I rolled my eyes but followed regardless. I'm sure Edward would not appreciate it if I made a scene by telling the hostess to go fuck herself and that I could find him on my own.

The ache in my knee had lessened, but it was still there, and it was still bothering me. I honestly thought the stress of everything was affecting my ability to forget about it. It didn't help to see all three Cullen brothers and my two sisters already at the table tucked into a dark corner.

The three Cullens stood when I finally approached the table. Rose and Alice both looked at me with concern, but Alice quickly looked away with distain. She was obviously still not talking to me.

"Hello," I greeted awkwardly. I waved at Rosalie and gave Alice a passing glance.

"Isabella," Edward greeted.

"Mr. Cullen." I offered a smile and nod. "I thought this was going to be a private meeting," I whispered, though they probably all heard.

"Surely, you didn't think I'd entertain your request without discussing it with my family. It affects all of us. As for why they're here," he said, jerking his head to my sisters, "Emmett and Jasper insisted on bringing dates." He shrugged.

I nodded slowly. "So … you all have a thing going on?" I pointed between the four of them. Why the hell did they agree to seeing the men that had held them at gunpoint only days ago? They must have had a dormant masochistic gene that recently presented itself.

"Does it matter?" Alice spat at me. "At least we know what kind of guys they are. They won't kill us out of nowhere."

"Don't be so sure," I mumbled into my water glass. I could see Edward's narrowed eyes in my peripheral.

"So, I see your knee is acting up again," Rosalie cut in, trying to lessen the tension.

"Yeah." I shrugged. "I don't have anything 'planned' for the next few days, so it's alright."

The waitress came then, taking everyone's food and drink order.

"Let's get to the point of this gathering, Isabella. Please explain to my brothers what you asked of me earlier," Edward said.

I sat straighter, higher. "I approached Edward earlier about helping me take care of the Jacob situation," I began.

"Oh, that's rich!" Alice exclaimed. "Have Edward clean up your mess."

"Listen. You. Fucking. Bitch." I finally snapped. I was under an intense amount of stress and I didn't need her attitude at the moment. "You want to be mad at me-blame me for Daddy's death? Fine, but either shut the fuck up or get the fuck out. You're pissing me off, and I'm two minutes from snapping your neck. _I'm_ taking care of it, all right?_ I _wasn't the one who wanted you here."

The table was eerily quiet save for the snickers Edward was trying to suppress. Alice looked ashen. Never had I spoken to her like that, or threatened her life. I think what made it scarier was that we both knew that I could kill her before she had the chance to blink twice. I chanced a glance at Jasper. He had a look between astonishment and fury. I arched an eyebrow, daring him to speak or do something. He knew it was a family matter, and it was wise to stay silent.

"Okay, Xena. Keep going," Emmett laughed.

I took a deep breath. "I wanted Jacob's name out there as a person of interest for the Cullens. Jacob has a serious gambling problem so it won't be a surprise that he borrowed money from the wrong people. _When_ he is found dead, people will believe it was a Cullen who did it," I explained. "I'll leave evidence to suggest it."

Jasper let out a sarcastic laugh. "Do you realize what you're asking? You want us to take the credit for your kill? You're whacked out." He shook his head in disgust. "Why can't you just man up and take the fall for it?"

"I have to agree with Jasper," Emmett continued. "This could cause a lot of problems for our family."

I looked to Edward, sure he had something to contribute, but he remained quiet.

"I understand your concerns, Mr. Cullen. The fact of the matter is that Jacob's gang is nothing compared to your 'thing'. None of them are stupid enough to go after you. They'll take Jacob's death as a loss and move on." I shrugged. "And it's not about not manning up, but saving my own life. They won't go after you, but they won't hesitate to kill me if they knew I did it, and I can't afford to go into hiding. This is simply about having Jacob dead. I don't care who they think did it."

Then again, this family wanted to kill me only a few days ago, so most likely they really did give a shit about entertaining my request.

"And what happens if your plan doesn't work, Bella?" Rosalie asked, her voice clearly indicating that she did not like the idea.

"I … I don't know," I answered honestly.

"I can answer that for her," Edward finally spoke. "_If_ we agree to this and it fails, Isabella is dead." There was a loud gasp from both Alice and Rosalie. "I'm sorry, but that's the way it has to be," he continued professionally. "I can't have her start trouble, a possible war–despite the size and relevancy of a group–and walk away like nothing happened." He shook his head. "It _is_ the equivalent of borrowing money and not paying it back. You want my men–_my family_–to basically put their necks on the line for you."

"When you put it that way, then yes, Mr. Cullen," I agreed.

"Then you're putting your life up as collateral. It's the only way I'll entertain the request with my father."

"No! No way," Rosalie answered for me.

"Excuse me," I admonished her. "Exactly who do you think you're speaking for?"

"Bella, you can't be serious right now. You're willing to put up your life to take Jake's. That's fucking insane, even for you," she argued.

I narrowed my eyes in anger at her. "The _only_ way this could kill me is if I fail. Are you saying I'll fail? Or are you like Alice? Secretly hoping I will and pay with my life."

"Oh, screw you, Bella," Alice spat from across the table. I couldn't help but notice that she didn't dispute the allegation.

I turned my attention back to Edward. "Tell Mr. Cullen if those are the terms he'll accept, then I'm okay with that. If any other issue is to arise and he, or any of you, needs to speak with me, then I'll make myself available."

"Sucking up won't help your case,_ Black Swan_," Alice interrupted. "Calling everyone Mr. Cullen." She snorted, shaking her head.

"It's called respect. Something our _father_ instilled in some of us." I looked between her and Jasper. "But I guess when you're fucking someone, you've probably moved on to a first name basis."

I saw the slight movement of Jasper's arm, but I was quicker. I had my gun positioned to shoot him between the eyes a second before he had his aimed at me.

"Mr. Cullen, this has nothing to do with you, so please refrain from attempting to kill me in Alice's honor," I tried to say as politely as one could when pointing a gun. "We both know her virtue isn't something that needed to be protected," I quipped.

Jasper narrowed his eyes and, unbelievably, two more guns were pointed at me. Was I seriously about to die because I made a joke about Alice? Was she a part of their family already?

"I think we're done here," I said, holstering my gun. Sides seemed to have been taken, even though I didn't know this was a matter that called for it. As it stood, I was flying solo. "Thank you for your time. Have a good night." I nodded a farewell to everyone at the table and stood to leave as the waiter approached the table with the food.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Now don't go off judging Bella in this chapter…**

I walked across the street to a bar that I've been to a few times and ordered a rum and Coke.

Tonight didn't go how I thought it would at all. It didn't really surprise me that Emmett and Jasper were there, but the girls shouldn't have been. This had nothing to do with them, and I could bet money that none of them had ever brought dates to this kind of meeting. I didn't know what they were playing at, but I'm sure whatever it was backfired.

I didn't intend on it getting as violent as it did, but when I saw Jasper reach for his gun, I drew mine on instinct. I would like to say that I wouldn't have shot him, but I wasn't sure. At that point, I was frustrated at the girls' presence, pissed that I was taken off guard, and truthfully, hurt that Alice was treating me the way she was. I understood her anger, I did, but I was trying to fix it. Didn't that count for something?

I opened my purse and stared at the two pill bottles, trying to decide if my knee or head hurt more. Making a decision, a swallowed two Percocet with the Coke. It burned the whole way down.

"Didn't anyone tell you that you shouldn't mix alcohol and medication?" a man said as he sat down next to me. He was quite handsome. Blond hair tied back at the nape of his neck, smooth, flawless skin, and very easy on the eyes. Mesmerizing blue eyes that shouldn't exist. "Garrett," he introduced himself.

"That kind of day, Garrett." I shrugged. "Isabella, or Bella. Whichever."

"It's nice to meet you, Bella. Another drink?"

"Trying to get me drunk," I joked.

He brazenly leaned in close. "Would I need to?" he whispered.

Looking into his amazing eyes, I answered. "Probably not." He licked his bottom lip, and I couldn't help but do the same. My mind went there–wondering what he was packing between his legs. It had been a long time since I had any sexual release that I didn't give myself. It wasn't for Jacob's lack of trying. I couldn't stand the thought of his hands on me. Besides, he thought I didn't know about his piece on the side; Leah. That's why he wasn't pestering me about sex much anymore.

"Wanna get out of here?" he offered.

"What about that drink?" I replied coyly. I think we both knew that we were going to be leaving together.

"I have a wet bar at my place. Anything you want." He leaned in close, brushing his lips lightly to mine. My eyes fluttered closed as I allowed this stranger to take my bottom lip between his teeth. I grabbed the lapels of his jacket to bring him closer.

A throat clearing broke us apart. If we were in a private setting, my gun would have been shoved down the asshole's throat for interrupting something that was just getting good. I turned my head to tell whoever it was to fuck off. However, my words got stuck in my throat when I saw Edward standing beside us with an angry, feral look.

"Mr. Cullen. What are you doing here? There's no way you finished dinner." It had only been fifteen minutes, tops, since I left them.

He ignored me and kept his glare locked on Garrett. "This is Garrett. Garrett, this is Mr. Edward Cullen," I introduced them, trying to breaking the heavy tension.

"I know who he is," Edward seethed. "I told you to watch her, not try to fuck her."

My eyes widen at the realization of his words. "Watch me? For what?"

"Forgive me, Mr. Cullen," Garrett began confidently, if not a bit arrogantly. It was something that you just didn't do. "You weren't specific in your instructions, so as long as she was with me, I didn't think it would be a problem." His final, and ultimately fatal mistake, was adding a little smirk at the end. Garrett was cute, but obviously fucking dumb. It was nice knowing him, I guess.

I watched as Edward began sucking his teeth in anger. I studied his chest as he took in deep, soothing breaths and practically drooled as he swiped his tongue across his bottom lip. If I wasn't terrified of this man, I wouldn't have hesitated to ask him back to my place.

Christ. I was turning into a whore.

"Garrett," he began before stepping close. He whispered in his ear, but it was still loud enough for me to hear. "I think you forgot who you're talking to, but I suggest you begin to remember. Quickly. Now, get the fuck out of my face before I make you swallow your tongue and put one between your eyes."

Garrett visibly paled, nodded quickly, and left without so much as a goodbye. I watched him walk away and exit the bar. I was hesitant to turn my attention to Edward, though I could feel his eyes on me the whole time. He was angry, which was always dangerous, and I was nervous to have his anger taken out on me.

"Were you going to take him home, Isabella?" he asked. I could hear the irritation in his voice. It was partly his fault, anyway, for having someone watch me.

"Probably." I shrugged. "I've been pretty lonely." I finally looked back at him. The fire of anger still danced in his eyes, but I was too entranced to look away. "I'm sorry about pointing the gun at your brother," I apologized. "But in my defense, he reacted too harshly to something that was between Alice and me."

He nodded once. "I wish I could apologize for drawing my gun on you, but I was protecting my brother."

"Of course." I was about to bid him a good night, but he spoke before I could do just that.

"Alec will no longer be a problem." I caught the drink that dribbled down my chin from fighting not to spit it out.

"Come again?" Alec continued to be a pain in my ass, though I hadn't seen him since the day I sent him off to deliver the money. It was like he literally dropped off the face of the planet.

"I found him." He didn't have to say anything else.

"How did you do it?"

"I chopped off his hands and watched him bleed to death. It wasn't as much fun as it sounds."

"Thank you, I guess." It was one problem that I didn't have to worry about.

"I didn't do it for you. Someone had to pay and it seemed fitting that he was it. Want another drink?"

"No," I answered, shaking my head. "I shouldn't be drinking this shit, anyway. Everything hurts going down," I blurted out.

Without warning, he moved the collar of my coat that I had not taken off and began tracing his finger marks. I was stunned into stillness but could admit that his fingers on me felt heavenly. I slightly flinched when his finger began inching toward my chin. The burn was still sensitive and only recently began healing.

Edward flashed his eyes to mine while continuing to come close to the underside of my chin. Very slowly, he brought his face closer, and all I could do was lock my eyes to his. My breaths were shallower as I tried not to move; not wanting him to stop.

Finally, after what felt like forever, I could feel his breath on my neck as he placed featherlight kisses along his finger marks. He started at my left ear and made his way to my right. He made one detour, placing a kiss next to the burn but not actually touching it. I was extremely grateful for that.

I tried to keep myself from hyperventilating, but his lips, his breaths, and his fingers were driving me insane. Despite my fear of this man, I wanted him. I wanted him years ago, and I still wanted him today.

"What are you doing?" I managed to breathe out, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Apologizing," he answered between light kisses and sweet caresses.

I closed my eyes and just let myself feel. I wanted to tell him that there was no need to apologize; that I completely understood his actions a few days ago in my office. It was the way our world worked-his especially. You dealt harshly with rats, traitors, and those that reneged. Misunderstandings can happen, but you never let your insecurity with a situation show. I'm sure many innocent people died over a misunderstanding, but that's an occupational hazard when you decide to play with the big boys.

When it came right down to it, though, I just didn't want him to stop.

"I should respect your engaged status," he continued. I wanted to fervently shake my head, but I didn't want to do anything that would make him stop touching me. "But I can't respect a loveless relationship."

I sighed in relief. I felt more affection toward Edward, a stranger for all intents and purposes, than I did toward Jacob.

"Can I take you home, Bella?" he asked before placing a kiss on the corner of my mouth.


	8. Chapter 8

Jacob wasn't coming back tonight. I knew his schedule and habits like the back of my hand. He was pissed off when he left, so that meant he was going to end the night between Leah's legs. I was cool with that. With any luck, I'd have Edward between mine. It was a win/win situation.

"You're home is very … bare," Edward commented after having given him the tour. I showed him everything but the girls' rooms.

I never felt very comfortable in this apartment. It didn't feel like mine. Although, my name was the only one on the lease, I shared it with Jacob and the girls. Jacob was only around for the obvious reasons, and I still felt responsible for Alice and Rose, even when they were in school. I guess it was my cross to bear for what I let happen to Charles. I had to step up and be the only parent that they had.

"Yeah, but I'm not here much anyway. Besides, once Jacob is taken care of, I don't plan on staying here. It already seems tainted."

"And where would you go?"

I shrugged and motioned for him to follow me into the kitchen. I handed him a beer from the fridge. "I don't know. I thought that I would buy a house or something. Something big enough for me and my sisters for when they came to visit, but now …" I trailed off, unsure of anything anymore. "They probably don't want to be with me now, so maybe a small studio close to the warehouse. For all I know, I'll end up sleeping _in_ the warehouse."

I watched Edward watch me as he took lazy pulls from the bottle. Lips never looked so sexy wrapped around glass.

"How's the knee?" he asked when he put the bottle down. It was a sad moment, and I already missed the bob of his Adam's apple.

"I took two Percocet to dull the ache. I'll keep popping those until I can schedule a cortisone shot. I'll live."

"That bad?" he asked, with a furrow of his eyebrows.

"I think I fucked it up the other day in the office." I didn't elaborate which day because we both knew what I was talking about.

Rudely, though I'd never say it out loud, Edward pulled out his phone and began texting. _I_ didn't want to appear rude so I busied myself with wiping down a clean counter.

"Tomorrow," he said, putting away his phone, "at eleven o'clock. Dr. Shay will be stopping by with the shot and to check out you knee," he finished, his words laced with authority.

"Mr. Cullen, really, thank you, but that's not necessary. Something is probably out of whack. I'm sure I can rehab it back."

"I insist." A familiar tone-a tone that was final.

I inwardly sighed. "Thank you, Mr. Cullen."

He took another slow pull from the bottle before making his way over to me.

"Why do you continue to call me Mr. Cullen even though I allowed you to use my name?" He was inches from me, staring into my eyes, and speaking softly yet seductively.

I was getting drunk off his cologne-something I didn't recognize but would gladly visit any retail establishment to find. With my luck, it was probably something specially imported from Italy.

I swallowed roughly, ignoring the sting. "Because we're not friends, and you're a Cullen. I was raised to respect that name."

"Then don't you think it's disrespectful to call me Mr. Cullen when I told you to call me Edward?" Good point. "And we could be friends, you know?" He rubbed his nose along my neck. "We could be good friends."

My eyes fluttered closed as I felt the swift swipe of his tongue on the crook of my neck. "Why me and why now?" I asked, my voice just above a whisper. "I thought I wasn't in your league."

"I don't remember that day in New York. Ever since you told me earlier, I've been trying to find a reason as to why I would reject someone so beautiful, so … deadly." His voice was as low as mine and as seductive as it was in the bar.

Courageously, I wrapped my hand around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape. I took a deep sniff before I began placing my own kisses up and down his neck. I went up a little, taking his earlobe in my mouth and nibbling before letting it go again. "You could kill me and not think twice about it."

"So could you," he countered. "Show me your room again."

..ooOOoo..

It was love at first cock sighting.

"Mr. Cullen," I purred as he stood in front of me, unabashedly stroking himself. "I thought we agreed to leave our weapons in the living room," I joked. I laid back on the bed, propped up on my elbows, still dressed in my underwear. Things had moved too quickly between us, but I couldn't find a fuck to give. I wanted this man- had for years already-and if he wanted me back, then I wasn't going to overanalyze and, most likely, screw it all up. I'd think about the consequences later. It wasn't as if I was going to be overshadowed by guilt for cheating on Jacob.

"Does this scare you, Isabella?" he asked while stalking toward me.

"Very much." I nodded. I knelt on the bed and began removing my bra.

"Now those can make a grown man cry." He knelt on the bed in front of me and ran his thumb over my already sensitive nipples. He lowered his head and began licking around the areola and never touching where I needed him to. I twisted my fingers in his hair, locking them there. His strands were definitely as soft as they looked. "Lay back," he instructed."I'm going to fuck you, Isabella. Don't confuse it with lovemaking. This is going to be hard and fast."

He held himself in his hands, rubbing it at my entrance but never actually going in. After a short thirty seconds of this, I could feel myself dripping with desire and arousal that wasn't met. "Fuck me, already," I sneered. Literally taking matters into my own hands, I grabbed his cock and easily glided it inside. Edward growled in either pleasure or irritation at the control being taken away from him. Either way, I couldn't care less. My breath hitched at finally feeling him inside me. For the first time, I felt full and satisfied, and we hadn't actually moved yet.

His eyes softened for a brief moment-a tender moment. He traced his finger down my temple and cheek before he gently stoked the fading ligature marks around my neck. Before it could grow uncomfortable, he lowered his head, breathing on my neck in the most seductive manner. My eyes rolled to the back of head with the most exotic pleasure. His lips ran the length of the bruise before placing one wet kiss and extracting himself from my neck.

He began thrusting into me, but not as hard as I needed it. I tried meeting each of his thrusts but they were fast and frantic. With one hand finding its way back to his hair, my other began rubbing furiously at my clit.

Edward propped one leg on his shoulder and held the other in the air, holding it up behind my thigh. Finally, he pushed into me harder. Painfully harder, but fuck if it didn't feel good. As cliché as it sounded, his cock was made for me; molded by God to bring _me_ pleasure.

"Ung … uh … uh. Fuck ... fuck …" I panted as he began hitting spots that no one else had ever reached. I started to remove my hand to cup my breast, but he stopped me before I could.

"Don't … you fucking … dare," he warned. I brought my hand down again just as he brought his up. His fingers began twisting and pinching. For a moment, I was lost in thought just looking at his fingers. They were long, slightly calloused, and neatly trimmed. Cleanliness be damned, I needed those fingers in my mouth. Extracting my hand from his glorious hair, I grabbed his hand, sticking his index and middle finger in my mouth. I sucked on them greedily. They tasted like salt, sweat, and what I could only imagine was his pre-cum. It wasn't the most appealing taste, but they were_ his _tastes, and that was enough to drive me insane.

He pounded into me. The force and sting of skin on skin contact echoed off the walls. I locked eyes with him as my tongue licked up his fingers only to be engulfed once again.

"Do you like sucking on things?" he grunted out, never ceasing his movements.

"I like sucking… on your things," I panted.

"Are you … saying … God, damn. You'd like to … suck … my cock?" he asked between thrusts.

"I'm saying I'd love to suck your cock, Mr. Cullen."

With one last deep slam, he removed himself from me. "On your knees, Isabella." I complied quickly, eager to introduce my face to the one thing that had brought me pleasure like nothing else before.

I licked from shaft to tip, getting a feel for what, exactly, I'd be working with. It was bigger than average, but not overly so. I wrapped my lips around the tip, at the same time bring my eyes to look at his. They were only open for a moment, before they fell shut in pleasurably agony. Starting slowly, I bobbed my head up and down, swirling my tongue as much as I could. Slowly, I picked up speed and added more suction.

I looked up again to see his head thrown back, and he eyes still closed, only tighter this time. I removed my mouth all together, instead, pumping him with my hand. I watched as his eyes snapped open, showing the tiniest hint of disappointment. I grinned evilly at him before I ducked my head and captured a testicle between my lips.

"Fucking shit," he hissed, fisting my hair. One hand kept stroking him as the other massaged the testicle that wasn't being warmed in my mouth. I alternated between the three-licking, sucking, and massaging.

"Turn … turn around," he spluttered out while I had his dick in my mouth. I inwardly laughed. He was a second away from blowing his load, and he had to stop before he did. I didn't say anything, though, and did as I was told. He didn't touch me right away, and I could hear him steadily breathing behind me. When I finally heard the rustling of fabric, I braced myself for what was about to come. I braced my hand against the mattress, feeling the cool steel of the bowie knife I kept underneath it at all times. I stretched my neck a bit to see if the gun a kept attached to the side of the nightstand was still there. It was.

Feeling the knife and seeing the gun was a harsh reminder that I didn't trust the man currently between my legs. Sure, I was crushing on him hard, despite the attempted strangulation and almost death, but I knew that at the end of the night, he could put a bullet through my head and walk away as if he knew nothing.

But I just couldn't bring myself to stop.

I felt his hands grip my hips, and I relished the feel of his hands on me. He bent over, placing kisses down my spine. My eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy, the feeling way too intimate for this casual hook-up. His lips left my back abruptly.

He lined himself up before crashing into me. "Ooohh, God," I moaned. Gripping my hips tighter, he slammed into me over and over. It was euphoric. My stomach muscles began to tighten seconds before I experienced the first orgasm. It was amazing-damn near life altering-but it wasn't enough. I wasn't done. Thankfully, neither was he.

I bent down lower, supporting all my upper body weight on my shoulders. Reaching back with both hands, I spread myself open wider, wanting to feel nothing but his cock sliding in and out with no impediments.

I felt one hand leave my hips and roughly grab hold of my hair, causing my body to arch. With a few more erratic thrusts and grunts, Edward stilled, spilling his seed inside of me. Edward laid on the bed, spent, and almost automatically, I turned and snuggled to his side. Before I could actually fathom my actions, Edward's hand found the back of my neck and began stroking the skin there tenderly. It was another intimate moment that I was pretty sure he wasn't aware of.

We spent a sparse ten minutes in that position before he made to get up. I sat up, watching him get dressed. I'd never admit it out loud, but I was sad to see him go. This was why it was harder for women to have casual encounters. What was supposed to be nothing but sex, turned into something emotional-for me at least.

"So what number am I on Edward Cullen's bedpost?" I asked more bitterly than I had intended. He stopped fiddling with his belt and glared at me.

"Do you want to be one of my whores?" he asked just as snidely.

His question and tone caught me off guard, making me hesitate. It's not that I wanted to be one of his whores. I wanted more. I didn't want him to have any whores-only me- but that wasn't going to happen.

"No," I answered when he continued to look at me. It hurt my heart when I saw the look of relief on his face.

I watched as he finished getting dressed and followed him into the living room to get his gun and phone. I was unashamed that I remained naked.

I walked him to the door but remained hidden behind it.

"I'll talk to my father tonight. With the agreed terms, I don't think he'd have a problem with it."

It was like reality came crashing back down on me once again. I forgot about the Jacob issue, even the whole beef Alice had with me. It was scary how lost in pleasure and fantasy I allowed myself to get while with the man before me.

"Thank you," I nodded quickly. We stood there awkwardly, neither of us really knowing how to say goodbye. With a quick kiss to the forehead, Edward was the first to walk away.

Three hours later, I received a text saying we had a deal.

Now all I had to do was kill Jacob Black.

**AN: Someone had asked about a piece from EPOV. Is that something anyone else would be interested in? Let me know. Also, on a side note, for the few that are still reading MoBM, I'm working on getting an update out there within a week. **


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Just a quick FYI, from the last chap to this one is about a month or so. I didn't really specify, but it's not the week she initially gave herself to take care of Jacob. Enjoy.**

The odd turn my relationship with Edward took was surreal. I thought our contact would be nonexistent until the Jacob deed was done. Lord knows that was the case with Alice. Our relationship hadn't gotten better, but not necessarily worse, either.

She spent a lot of time with Jasper. So much so that she moved her stuff out of her bedroom and into Jasper's home. It was too soon but I was in no place to say anything. Besides, she was going back to school soon. A school whose tuition was being paid by me, but it wasn't something I would stop doing because of an argument. She was my sister, and I loved her despite how much she hated me.

Edward, on the other hand, I spoke to almost daily. Mostly via text. It started as quick status updates on the Jacob situation. Status updates turned into inquiries about my work schedule, and somehow, that transformed into him asking me for advice that I'm sure he didn't need. Eventually the "professional" texts become passing "hellos" and "what's up?" It was those texts that brought a smile to my face that I had to hide when Jacob was around. Only once had he asked me about my grinning at the screen. I was able to easily brush off his curiosity, answering that it was Rosalie.

Over the past month, I could confidently say that Edward and I had become friends. I even moved on to actually calling him by his name.

I hid in the bathroom with the guise of taking a shower. I turned the water on and made some noise as to not alert Jacob that I was doing anything but washing.

"Hey," Edward's husky voice greeted me on the other end. I couldn't deny that I was craving this man like a druggie. We had only been together that one time, but it was enough to have me addicted. I couldn't speak for Edward, but I hadn't been with anyone since out encounter. I didn't _want_ anyone else but him. I wasn't naïve enough to allow myself to believe that he had remained celibate since our tryst.

"Hi," I said almost shyly. This coy and hesitant person wasn't me, but he made me so unsure.

"What's up, babe?" It hadn't slipped my notice that about two weeks ago he had begun with the terms of endearment-mostly babe and sweetheart. I hadn't called him on it because, for one, I wasn't sure if he had realized it himself that he was doing it and, frankly, I loved it. It made me smile every time. I reined in my smile because I just knew that he would be able to tell I was grinning like a fool. Somewhere along the line, he had turned me into a crushing teenager all over again instead of the hardened killer I was trained to be.

"So, uh, Jacob has a meeting tonight. If you're not doing anything, do you want to come over?" This was the first time I had invited him over, and the first time I would be seeing him since the last time.

"Like a date?" he teased.

"Uh …" Was I being too forward? I didn't even know if he had a girlfriend, though I doubted it. I didn't even know if Edward dated, and if he did, if those girls were expected to have certain attributes. Probably. "No. Unless you want it to be." I heard him chuckle on the other end.

"Sure. What time?"

"Eight thirty-ish?" It was already 7:15, and Jake should have been on his way out already. His meetings usually started at eight and usually ran about two to three hours, and Jacob rarely came back after. Edward had more than enough time to get here without playing it close.

"All right. I have some shit to do before then, but I should be good to go. Oh, yeah, Carlisle wants to know the status of his gun delivery."

"Another day. There was a hold up in California that delayed it a few hours. I talked to some people and had it placed on a private charter. It's possible that it will arrive only a few hours behind schedule, but to play it safe, tell him twenty-four hours." The whole thing only cost me another ten thousand. I wish I could say that never again would I do this for Carlisle Cullen-strictly because of business and financial reasons-but you didn't say no to him. You ask "how high" when he asks you to jump.

"Okay." I heard the disappointment in his voice, and it hurt more than it should. The gun should have been here in less than twelve hours, but that wasn't going to happen. I hadn't exactly missed Carlisle's deadline, but the delivery date and time were off, and that was just as bad.

"So, um … I guess I'll see you later?" I wasn't sure if he was still willing to come over. He was disappointed in me and, most certainty, didn't want to be the one to inform Carlisle of the new development. "Unless you don't want to anymore. It's cool if you don't."

Please let him still want to.

"No … yeah, I'm still coming. I have to go now, though. I'll call you when I get there."

"Great. I'll see you later." I hung up with a sigh. I had to bite the bullet, metaphorically speaking, and make the call that Edward didn't want to make. Rightfully, it was my call to make anyway.

I turned off the water, all pretenses of showering gone and unimportant. I didn't have to browse my extensive contact list to find the number I needed and almost never dialed.

"Carlisle Cullen," he answered professionally.

"Mr. Cullen, hello. This is Isabella Swan. How are you tonight?" I was beating around the bush. I really didn't want to make this call, but I couldn't leave it for Edward to make.

"That depends, Ms. Swan, on what this phone call is about." His voice was still calm. Not necessarily cold, but definitely calculated.

"Right. I'm calling to inform you that our estimated time and date of delivery won't be met." To this man, it didn't matter if you stressed the word "estimated". He expected it on the date and time he was told. "There was a situation in California. When the plane landed to refuel, customs wanted to do a search. We had to call in a private charter to fly it the rest of the way, but the route changed for security reasons. It set us back a few hours."

"Why wasn't it shipped via boat like usual?" I didn't want to correct him that they weren't _always_ shipped to me by boat.

"Because it would have added another three, four days, and this was a rush order, if you will," I explained.

"So when should I expect my gun, Ms. Swan?" His voice took on a hard edge, making me so damn grateful he wasn't in front of me.

I swallowed hard. "About eighteen to twenty-four hours."

"We'll be in touch." The line went dead.

Fuck. Me.

There was a knock on the door startling me from commiserating.

"You done in there? I gotta take a piss," Jacob hollered. I rolled my eyes and got off the toilet seat.

"All yours," I replied sarcastically, passing him in the doorway. I heard him say something, but ignored him. Instead, I went into the bedroom to send Edward a text telling him I had spoken with his father. I pushed the phone under the pillow when I heard Jacob enter the room.

"Why didn't you take your shower? You were in there long enough."

"I had to place a call to Carlisle Cullen regarding an order; it took longer than I anticipated." Ever since Charles death, I only ever gave Jacob vague answers. Nothing I did concerned him, be it business or personal.

"The Cullens, huh?"

"Yup." I went into the walk-in closet to change into sleep clothes. "Shouldn't you have left already? Your thing starts in twenty minutes." Basically, he needed to get the fuck on the road already.

He walked up behind me and put his arms around my waist. It took everything in me not to shudder at his touch and fling his body off of me. That certainly wasn't the way you were supposed to treat your fiancé. He was very touchy-feely right now.

"I have a few minutes before I have to leave. Want to fool around?" he whispered in my ear.

I distracted myself from his grip. "Sorry. Headache." I made a show of going to the bathroom and grabbing two aspirins. I went to the kitchen where he already had a glass of juice waiting. "Thanks." I popped the pills and downed all the juice. "I'm gonna go rest."

Once in the room, I reached under the pillow for the phone. Grabbing it too quickly, I dropped it on the floor. I bent to pick it, but was hit with a strong wave a vertigo on the way up. I sat still a minute, waiting for it to pass. However, it only worsened. Not only was I dizzy, but the room was spinning, and my vision was starting to blur. I rubbed my eyes in an effort to get them to focus.

Something wasn't right. Something definitely wasn't right. I stood from the bed hoping it would do _something_ to help. With my phone in hand, I tried dialing Rosalie. Fuck, I'd even try to Alice if I could get a hold of her. My fingers glided over the screen, but I just couldn't get anything I was looking at to make sense or stay still.

"Which Cullen are you fucking, Bella?" I dropped the phone at Jacob's harsh voice.

With my fuzzy vision and foggy thoughts, it was all so clear. Jacob never cut it this close to missing his meeting. It was already five to eight, he should have been long gone by now. The dizziness wasn't abating, but the adrenaline was helping, if only slightly.

"What the fuck did you do to me?" I asked, staggering across the room. I tried to level my thoughts, hoping my training would kick in.

"Rohypnol," he laughed. "A pretty powerful dosage." His smile vanished instantly. "All the texts, quiet phone calls. Did you really think I wouldn't figure it out?"

"Fuck you, Jake. I don't owe you shit. You fucking owe me for killing my father, you scumbag." My words were slurred, but he clearly understood.

"That's where you're wrong, Bella. I just ordered it."

"What the hell did he ever do to you?" I tried making my way back toward the nightstand for the pistol attached there. "He treated you like a fucking son." Bracing myself against the table, I slid my hand on the side of it to find nothing but smooth surface.

"It's not there," Jake said before cocking said gun. "It wasn't personal, Bella."

"You … " My mind was fuzzy, making coherent sentences harder and harder. "My father."

"I didn't want to kill him, I just wanted his business." He began walking toward me. "Do you realize what the Wolf Pack could become if we had that business with its reputation? We'd be bigger, more feared than your precious fucking Cullens."

Jake had to know that it wouldn't have been his upon my father's death. It was a stupid call on his part. Even upon my death, he'd never get near it. I'd torch the warehouse myself before I ever let him step foot inside.

"Did you think I didn't know about your little affair with Edward?" He laughed maniacally. "Truthfully, I don't give a shit who you fuck. What I do care about, though, is you making me look like a chump. That, my darling, is why you have to die."

Jacob closed the distance between us, my pistol leading the way. Jacob's problem, though, was that he knew shit about guns and even less on how to use them properly. He was a horrible shot-slow and unsteady. However, my problem was that the world around me was fading. I didn't have the focus or energy to overtake him.

I found and gripped the handle of the knife that was still hidden under the mattress. I didn't have the strength to kill him, but I could possible slow him down. Hiding the knife as much as possible, I began getting up to stand.

"Is that my stubborn girl coming out to play?" he taunted. "Don't want to die sitting down? I can respect that."

When he was only an arm's length away, as quickly as I could, I raised my heavy arm and lunged my weight at Jacob. I had been aiming for his heart, but my aim and depth perception were out of whack. I had managed to catch him in the side of his throat. It wasn't a kill blow, but it caused him to drop the gun none the less.

"Fuck!" he roared in pain. With my dimming view, I could see the thick red liquid spill down his neck.

Knowing that, at this point, I only had minutes before I completely blacked out, I crawled across the bed to get to the door. Grabbing the gun or knife wasn't an option. None of them would help me in the long run anyway.

It felt like I was trying to cross the Dead Sea with a body made of lead. I was drowning, and there was no hope of a floatation device. At the end of the hallway, right before the front door, I felt my body sinking to the floor. I was going to die here at the hands of my father's killer. At the hands of my fiancé.

With the diminutive amount of energy I had left, and leaning heavily on the wall, I was a couple of feet from the door. As I went to reach for the handle, the door swung open violently from the other side, causing my feet to falter.

In front of me was a disheveled and heavily panting Edward. His breathing was ragged as his chest rose and fell quickly. His eyes were wide and frantic, taking in the scene around him. Never had I been so relieved to see a cold-blooded killer in front of me.

I stumbled toward him at the same time that he lurched at me.

"Fucking bitch," I heard Jake yell as his feet pounded toward me. I turned to see how close he was. A lot closer than I had anticipated. He held the gun in the air, but his aim shifted as he noticed unwanted guest.

Pure adrenaline. That was the only thing that I had left, and even that was fading. With all the strength I could conjure, I leaped in front of Edward to shield him from the shot that was initially meant for me until Jacob saw the intruder. The shot rang out, blocking out every other noise in the world.

Searing pain, a piercing scream, and a guttural roar were the only things that I remembered before the drug took its full effect.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: So…this is it. The last chapter. I want to thank Alice's White Rabbit for beta'ing this for me, Lotty for the awesome banner (it's on my FB & I'll eventually post it here) and everyone who reviewed, fav'd and followed. I had a lot of fun writing this and I'm so glad you all enjoyed it so much. **

I was in the hospital, no doubt about it. The noises, smells, and itchy blackets were familiar. I felt the restraints of cords and tubes. The most upsetting, though, were the quiet voices I heard around me.

I had no idea how long I'd been out, but surmised that it couldn't have been that long. It didn't really feel like it at least.

I was conscious for a few minutes already but refused to open my eyes. The voices were hushed around me, not wanting to wake up what they thought was my sleeping form. Why I had visitors, I had no idea. I wasn't even sure who knew I was here. Rosalie and Alice, most likely, but who would have been around to tell the nurse about my next of kin.

My back ached, and I tried shifting unnoticeably into a more comfortable position. People turn when they're sleeping, right?

"Ahhh," I cried out when I began moving my leg. Tears sprang easily to my eyes which had closed even tighter. It felt like I was laying on a bed engulfed in fire. My whole body burned and ached with intolerable pain.

"Give her morphine," the woman I presumed was the nurse instructed.

"No, no, no, no," I insisted, finally opening my eyes. "No more drugs." I would deal with the pain. The effect of the roofie was something that I didn't want to experience again, and while I knew that the morphine wouldn't have similar side effects, it wasn't something I was willing to experience right now.

I reached my hand out for the water perched on the side table, but immediately withdraw at the sensation the movement was doing to my hip. I'd rather have cotton-mouth than go through that fiery pain again.

"Emmett, get her the water," the woman said. I had only seen her one other time- at Charles' funeral. Esme Cullen was not known to get involved in her husband's business.

I watched as Emmett poured the water and inserted a bendy straw into the cup. I looked on warily as he brought it to my lips, holding it there while I sipped gingerly. I nodded in appreciation when I was done.

I took stock of the Cullen family that was holding up the wall. All four Cullen men were dressed in perfectly pressed black suits. Appropriate for someone's funeral.

"Isabella, I assume that you know why we're here," Carlisle finally spoke. He was not a man that made many personal appearances; one of his many attributes that made him a man of mystery. As a matter of fact, unless you were family, having Carlisle Cullen at your doorstep was never good.

Before answering, I chanced a look at the rest of the Cullens that lingered in my room. Each wore their own unique look of gloom. Even Edward's handsome face was marred with sorrow. I brought my gaze back to the head of the family.

"Did I kill him?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Jacob is dead but not by your hands."

"Then, yes, I know why you're here." He was here to kill me. I hadn't held up my end of the deal. I bet my life, and I had lost. Why did he need an audience, though? No matter; it was his show anyway. All I could hope for now was that one, he would kill me mercifully, and two, Rose and Alice knew that I loved them despite the deep heartache and rift I had caused in our once tight family.

"I know I don't have the right to ask any favors, but if you could find it in your heart to make it painless, I could go to my grave with the utmost appreciation." He didn't respond, though I didn't think he would. His expression remained hard, undeterred.

"Isabella-Bella," Esme said kindly. "I think you're mistaken. Carlisle isn't here to … kill you."

"With all due respect, Mrs. Cullen, but why else would Mr. Cullen be here if it weren't to kill me?" I tried holding back a sarcastic look, but I was pretty sure I was unsuccessful. "And frankly, since I'm gonna die anyway, it's really sick that you all came to watch." Pain and fatigue be damned. The more I talked, the more riled up I got myself. The heart monitor beeped wildly. They weren't my family, but I thought I had at least had a friend in Edward. Somewhere along the way, I had begun to trust him. "I didn't _do_ anything to intentionally hurt any of you-to deserve such disrespect in my last moment of life."

I looked over at Edward, physically unable to stop the tears. "I thought we were friends. It would have served me well to remember that personal relationships don't matter in our world." Look at what Jacob had done to me. Edward shared the same hard look as his father, confirming my thoughts.

Fuck him. Fuck them all!

A rustling in front of me brought my attention back to the oldest Cullen. Angrily, he stomped closer to me. This was it. I watched in curiosity and dread has he brought his empty hand up to my bed. There was no gun, knife, or syringe that could end it all.

"Ooowwww," I cried in earnest as his hand tightly gripped my left hip. I writhed in pain, but he wouldn't budge. I tried using my hands to pry him off, but with his free hand, he was able to effectively hold me down.

"Please," I begged with a ragged breath. Death would be better than this insurmountable, crippling pain.

"I will not tolerate the insolence which you've shown my family in the short ten minutes you've been awake. If I didn't have something to say, you'd already be on your way to meet your maker. Now apologize to my wife and son," he seethed. I nodded rigorously in hopes that he would let go sooner.

Once he let go, I tried catching my breath. It was as if whatever injury I had there was directly connected to my lungs and heart.

"Carlisle, that was hardly necessary," Esme chided her husband heatedly. I limply held up my hand to stop her.

"No, Mrs. Cullen," I gasped out during deep breaths. "He's right." Another breath. "I was completely out of line. I hope that you accept my sincerest apology. My tone was uncalled for." Breathing through my nose helped the pain.

"Mr. Cullen," I addressed Edward, "my apologizes to you, too. You didn't owe me anything, and my anger was misdirected. I'm sorry."

"Mr. Emmett, Mr. Jasper, I'm sorry for disrespecting you and your family."

My heart rate monitor continued to beat loudly and frantically. I reached up and pulled the cords off that monitored that particular organ. It was a reminder that it wouldn't be beating for long.

"As I was saying," Carlisle began with an eerily reserved voice, "the reason I'm here, and I speak for all of us, is to thank you for your selflessness and bravery. I have no doubt that there are very few people who would do what you did to help my family."

I snorted, which was actually a bit painful. "I'm sorry, but I didn't help anyone. I really don't know what you're talking about."

"What do you remember two nights ago with Jacob?" Carlisle asked.

I furrowed my brow and felt my eyes narrow in concentration. Honestly, I didn't remember much. "Um, I know he slipped something in my drink, but that's really it. I think we got into an argument, but I don't know for sure, and you've already told me he's dead, but I didn't do it. I'm obviously missing something."

"That's an understatement." Edward's voice was like a magnet, drawing me to look at him, but with all my willpower I managed to keep my eyes on Carlisle.

"Well, according to our son, you saved his life."

"No," I shook my head, "you're mistaken. I didn't save anyone."

"Goddamnit, Isabella," Edward shouted. "Listen to what he's saying!" I flinched, sending excruciating pain all the way down to my toes. "If I had gotten there sooner, you wouldn't be in this hospital bed right now."

"Mr. Cullen," I tried to placate him. His anger literally hurt. "I don't know how I got here, but I'm sure it's not your fault."

"Cut the formality bullshit out, Bella! We're past that." He was still angry.

I rubbed at my eyes. My body already hurt, and my head was beginning to catch up. I wish that they'd either explain what was going on, leave, or just shoot me between the eyes already.

"Look," Emmett finally piped up, "you took a bullet in the hip for Edward. You ran in front of him, got hit, and passed out. You literally took a bullet for him. Simple as that."

I looked at Emmett, wide-eyed. I didn't remember any of that. "Really?" I asked Edward. He refused to look at me but gave me a quick nod. It hurt that he still couldn't look me in the eye, and I didn't know what to make of that. "Then did _you_ kill him?" Another nod. "Thank you." Without thinking, I reached out and touched his knee. He violently jerked it out from under my touch as if he was burned. I took my hand back and tried acting like it didn't bother me.

Embarrassed, I kept my eyes on my hands, which I planted on my lap. I was definitely ready to die now.

"I think … we should let them talk," Esme suggested, though her words were unsure.

With no response, the other began shuffling out of the room. It was a suffocating silence. Edward could have left, too. I wasn't lying when I told him that he didn't owe me anything, even with the latest revelation.

"Thanks again," I breathed out.

"I should be thanking you," he whispered.

"Consider us even, I guess." I wish I could say that he'd do the same for me, but I couldn't know that for sure. I fell for the man that refused to look at me, and if what they said was true, I couldn't regret my decision. Everything about that night was my fault. I should have known better than to invite him over. He probably hadn't wanted to come over to begin with. He never asked before.

"Why are you taking this so easily, Bella?" he shouted. "If I had just gotten there in time, the only one who would be in the hospital would be Jacob-in a fucking body bag."

"Why are you blaming yourself? I was the one who asked you to come over. You would have never been in the position if I hadn't done that. I should apologize to you for that."

"Don't you remember calling me? After you had already invited me over?"

I racked my brain trying to remember. "Uhh … I remember … wanting to call Alice or Rosalie, but I don't know if I ever got in touch with them. Since they're not here, I'm assuming I never did." I guess those relationship were destroyed beyond repair if the only family I had left wasn't here to see me in the hospital. "Were they like Jacob, wanting me dead for the money?" I asked sadly. "Was Charles the only one who really loved me?"

"No, Bella. They're not here because Emmett and Jasper sent them away. I didn't think they'd be able to handle seeing you like this, so I told Em to send them on a mini-vacation. And you didn't call them, you called me. I guess you dropped your phone, I don't know, but I heard you and Jacob talking. I rushed over as fast as I could."

"Why?" He shouldn't have come.

"What kind of question is that? You're … my friend," he hesitated. "I couldn't let anything happen to you. I was too late, though." He roughly ran his hand through his hair. "If I had gotten there quicker, he wouldn't have shot you. By the way, you're gonna need physical therapy," he added casually.

I winced. I hated PT.

"That wasn't part of the deal, though," I continued. "_I_ was supposed to kill him. What's going to happen to me now?" I was angry-resigned was more like it.

"Don't worry about the fucking stipulation in the contract, Isabella. This is a fucking exception, all right?"

"Thanks." What do you say when you're told that you're not scheduled to die anymore? "You didn't have to do that, you know? Come over, I mean. I'd involved your family enough already and now," I paused, formulating an idea. "I'll let them think I killed him, that way the Cullen name stays clean … or clean as far as The Wolf Pack is concerned." It was the best course of action. "Rose and Alice don't need me anymore, so going into hiding won't be such a big problem." The words stung and burned even as I said them, but I'd do it to keep them safe. Though any Cullen protection they had would be better than any I could provide.

"Are you listening to yourself? Do you think those dogs are even a blip on my radar? I wish they would _try_ to get on my level. I don't give a shit if they know I killed the mutt. Let them think I skinned him after. I. Don't. Care."

"Why _are_ you here, Edward?" He cared about something, or he wouldn't still be sitting here.

He was looking everywhere and at everything, but me. "You," he answered, playing with the sleeve of his suit jacket. "I … care … about you."

I couldn't help the small smirk that formed. "So, I'm your friend?" I teased. I'd like to be more than his friend, but I wouldn't push my luck since I was going to walk, or rather limp, away with me life.

"I guess," he shrugged, sounding like a little boy. It was adorable. "I don't like it, though?"

My smile faded, and my heart cracked a little. "Oh, well …" I cleared my throat. "I won't be offended if you don't want to be my friend. I won't stop you from walking away." Though it would hurt like hell to watch.

"No, that's not what I meant. We can be friends, but… I dunno … I want more with you." He looked up at me through his lashes.

"Why didn't you say anything before?" I realized it was a stupid question immediately, and he looked at me as if he could read my thoughts.

"Um …" he began sarcastically, "the first time we met, I thought you were stealing from me and had every intention of blowing your head off. You threatened and disrespected my brothers, you were engaged…" he used his fingers as his listed his reasons.

"Being engaged didn't stop you from fucking me," I countered, smirking again. The corners of his mouth lifted, and a little glow returned to his eyes.

"I'm a man, Bella, not a saint."

"Is that what all those random texts were about?"

He shrugged; he was amused. "I had to make sure I was on your mind."

He definitely was.

"So where does that leave us now. I don't think I'm engaged anymore," I joked.

"This is true," he nodded dramatically slow. "Not that I ever did, but I won't feel bad for doing this." He leaned over my bed, bringing his lips to mine. The kiss was sweet and slow, with only the slightest hint of tongue that abruptly ended when I tried to shift to a better position only to cause another round of horrible pain. "Maybe we should wait until you're out of here for more of that."

I tried pouting playfully but was in too much pain to actually keep it together long enough.

"Do you know when that's going to be?" I asked when I caught my breath.

"About a week. Depends on how the doctors feel about your recovery." He grabbed my hand and laced our fingers together. "I'd never been so scared, so angry in my life. You weren't mine, not officially, but all I could think was that I couldn't lose you." His eyes were glassy with unshed tears. He wiped them before they could become more.

"That's probably what I was thinking, too." I gripped his hand tighter. "I thought about you every day, almost obsessively. Some days, the only good thing about my day was a text from you saying hi."

Was it too soon to think I was falling in love with him? Probably.

"You know, if we start a relationship, your father might not approve. I'm already on his shit list. His finger is probably inching to pull the trigger." I was only half-joking. "He might not hand over the family reins when it's time," I warned him.

"My father doesn't hate you, Bella. He's just found himself in an unfamiliar situation. He's never had to be grateful for anything, and he doesn't know how to handle the situation. Give him time."

"You Cullen men sure know how to sweep Swan women off their feet."

"That we do!" He placed a quick kiss on my lips. "So it shouldn't come as a surprise when I tell you that Rosalie and Emmett are already engaged."

"Oh God," I groaned. "_That's_ probably why Emmett was so willing to send the girls away. He didn't want me killing his fiancée."

"They're happy, and so is Alice and Jasper," he mumbled the last part.

"I can hear about Alice without getting upset. You don't have to hide things from me where she's concerned." My family was altered, but as long as they were happy, with or without me, I would be fine. "But I'd still rather concentrate on us, though."

"I like that-being an 'us'."

"Me, too. It's just too bad that there won't be much of a sweaty, X-rated us for _months_." I laughed, as much as I could, at his distraught expression.

I'm pretty sure _now_ the mobster was ready to cry.

**AN: So, what you think. Good? Too anti-climatic? Let me know. I would appreciate a review of this last chapter of the story as a whole.**

**Lastly, the EPOV of this story. In good faith, I can't promise you a date for the story, but I can promise you an EPOV. For now, the story is marked complete, but keep it on alert so when I do post it, you'll get it. One last time, thank you all SOOO much for the love and attention that you gave this story. You can find on on FB as Cruiz FanFiction if you're so inclined. **


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